A Rainy Day with Hot Chocolate and Marshmallows
by purrpickle
Summary: Struggling with her newfound feelings for Tara, Willow needs someone to talk to. Knowing she needs someone older, caring, and not too closely involved in her life, she goes to a woman she's always looked up to: Joyce Summers. One-shot.


AN: I don't own Buffy: the Vampire Slayer, nor the characters within.

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Buffy's mother fixed her a mug of hot chocolate, complete with little marshmallows. Taking the mug from her gratefully, Willow let it warm up her palms. Bustling around the kitchen to pour herself some of the warm comfort, Joyce Summers finally joined her daughter's best friend at the kitchen counter. "Now, dear," she started, making herself comfortable and looking at the redhead with gentle hazel eyes, "What did you want to talk about?"

Willow took a sip to clear her thoughts, and then immediately wished she hadn't as she burned her tongue. Wincing, she set the mug back down, but kept it in her hands, wishing that she had been a little more careful.

Keeping quiet because she figured Willow wouldn't say anything otherwise, Joyce blew on her own hot chocolate, a faint smile creasing her mouth.

The redhead finally looked up, and she smiled skittishly. "Joyce," she started, knowing that she had to. She had dropped by unannounced, after all, sacrificing precious studying time and interrupting Joyce, who may have had to do something important. However, the blonde woman had been wonderful, letting her come out of the rain and hang her raincoat in the bathroom so it wouldn't get anything wet. So now, with chocolate in hand and skittering nerves, she was ready to attempt to get some support.

"I, uh…" she stuttered, stopped, took a deep breath, avoided Joyce's gaze, and swallowed.

"Willow," Joyce said, making her choice for her. She smiled and set her mug down, clinking against the hard counter, "How are you doing? Having any problems with classes?"

"What? No!" Shaking her head sharply, Willow tapped her fingers on her lap, "Classes are going great. Fine. Fine and dandy, even. No, it's not classes I'm worried about."

"Is it Buffy?"

"No, no. Buffy's fine. She's with Riley and, oh." Willow suddenly realized what her unexpected appearance and demeanor could have been construed as. "Oh, no! Don't worry! Buffy's fine! She's not why I'm here." She leaned forward, trying to convince the older woman.

Joyce smiled gratefully at her. "Oh, good. I was afraid you were going to tell me something horrible."

"No, everything's fine on the Buffy front." Willow's mouth crooked into an almost jealous grin, and her green eyes flashed momentarily.

Seeing the emotion the redhead didn't even know she was conveying, Buffy's mother reached out and patted her knee softly. "Is it Oz?" she asked.

Willow's eyes flew up to stare at her, wide. "What? Oz?" she spluttered, shaking her head so violently, Joyce was afraid she'd hurt herself. "Ohhhh, no…" the Wicca almost smirked, "This has nothing to do with Oz. This SO has nothing to do with Oz. This and Oz are so far away from each other that even if they did have something to do with each other, they wouldn't know it. In fact, I want Oz to stay as far away as possible from this as he can – which is saying a lot, believe me. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I am, and, and…" Willow stopped and took a breath, shaking her head again. "No, this has nothing to do with Oz." She took a sip of her now bearable hot chocolate, savoring the taste.

Joyce regarded the young woman, not quite knowing what to say. "So…" she tried to understand, "Are you pregnant?"

Willow choked on the sip she had taken, coughing loudly before she could squeak out, "No! No no no no no! No to the max. That's not even a possibility."

"Okay, just checking. I know you're a responsible young woman, Willow, but accidents do happen."

The redhead nodded along, her cheeks so bright they almost faded into her hair. She contemplated melting into her chair. She couldn't believe Buffy's mother had thought she was pregnant!

"Are you in love with a vampire?"

Willow shook her head.

"Well then," Joyce crossed her arms, looking at her pointedly. "Willow, I'm afraid that if you don't tell me what's bothering you, I can't help. I'd love to chat with you – it has been a while, and it's always nice to see you," Willow nodded, almost embarrassed; Joyce was the kind of woman you almost always took for granted, "but it's kind of hard if you're so tense that if I touch you, you'll break apart."

Willow knew she was right. Joyce had the knack for that. "Yeah…" she sighed, "I haven't been fair. You've been so nice, but I…" She dropped her head and her shoulders, her bangs falling protectively over her eyes. "I'm afraid," she admitted.

"You see," she continued, clenching her hands into the fabric of her jean skirt, her eyes rushing up to meet Joyce's hazel ones. "I think, I think…" Her eyes started to fill with tears, but she knew that once she had started, she couldn't stop, so she hung onto Joyce's gaze as hard as she could, anchoring herself. Her voice broke, "I think I've fallen in love."

Joyce's face registered surprise, but then a happy smile spread over her, "Oh, Willow, I'm so happy for you! Does he love you back?"

Willow shook her head, feeling her expression crumple, the sobs she had been holding back for weeks pushing out of her. "I don't know." she hunched over, crushing her hands to her face and shaking her head, crying deep, jagging hiccups. "I, Joyce, I'm so confused..."

Suddenly, soft warm arms slid around her shoulders and pulled her in to a surprisingly strong chest, Joyce's gentle voice soothing in her ears. Leaning against the older woman, Willow, for the first time in weeks, felt safe enough to admit everything out loud. Even though she felt so nice in Joyce's embrace, she knew she needed to get everything out, so she pulled herself away, wiping her eyes and nose. Her eyes still watered, threatening more tears, but she looked back into the caring face when she felt strong enough to continue.

Joyce wordlessly got up, heading deeper into the kitchen, coming back with a box of Kleenex. Taking a tissue and handing it to the younger woman, she smiled supportively, silently telling her to go on.

Gratefully blowing her nose and wiping her eyes dry, Willow half-crushed the tissue in her fist, worrying at it with her other hand. She looked at somewhere near the vicinity of below Joyce's face. With a low voice with no inflection, she once again began to speak.

"A-After Oz left, I didn't know what to do. I felt so alone. Xander had Anya, and Buffy had… Well, Riley. And they were so happy! So happy and I was so alone… It seemed like they didn't care. And that spell… The spell I did… Well, it just made me feel so much more aloner!"

Joyce softly patted her back. Taking a deep, rattling breath, the redhead continued.

"I, well, around that time star-started going to the campus Wicca group. Hah! Those girls were so not-Wicca-ey it was almost funny! But not. Made me feel so alone, even more. I felt that I was the only real witch and what was the point? But… But there was one… One girl."

Willow's lip curled. "No, not girl. She's so un-girly, that's not the right word. Woman? But no, she's not that either. She's… She's more." The girl looked up through her bangs, trying to decipher if she should go on or not.

Buffy's mother had a contemplative look on her face, but she continued rubbing Willow's back, "I see. Is she the one you love?"

Shocked, almost amazed at how quick the woman was, but immediately feeling foolish because Joyce Summers wasn't stupid, Willow gave a jittery nod, tears falling again.

"Oh, honey…" Pulling the unresisting girl into a strong hug, "I can see how this makes you so upset," Joyce held her close.

"You… You don't think it's wrong?"

"Of course not!" Joyce's voice echoed in her chest, sounding soothing to the redhead's ear lying against it. "Willow, honey," the blonde pushed her away a bit to look into her wet eyes, "There's nothing to be ashamed about." She grabbed the tissue she had set aside earlier and gently dabbed at Willow's eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears.

Willow stared at her. Out of all the reactions she had hoped to get, she hadn't dared think she would get something so down right supportive. "R-really?"

Joyce grabbed another tissue and handed it to her. She had gotten most of the salt and tears off, leaving the rest to Willow. "Yes. Really. There should be nothing wrong with whom a person loves." Holding Willow's gaze a while longer to convey her conviction, Joyce suddenly looked down, swept up the two mugs of cold hot chocolate, smiled supportively and said, "Now, let me get some more hot chocolate, and you can tell me all about her."

Nodding, still feeling like her voice had left her body, Willow couldn't help smiling back. It was nice of Joyce to give her some space after her outburst. As Buffy's mother worked, Willow looked down, searching the fabric of her skirt. She felt… She felt better. Dashing at her eyes that were watering again, she knew that with Joyce's acceptance, she could accept herself a little more.

A gentle tap on her shoulder moved her away from her thoughts. Looking into Joyce's gentle hazel eyes, Willow offered her a smile. She accepted the mug of hot chocolate, blew on it this time, and waited until Joyce sat back down next to her to begin softly talking.


End file.
